HER   MAJESTY'S   SHIP 


'INAFORE; 


HE  US3  THAI  LOTH  i  SSIIOR. 


AN    EXTIK; 


OPERA, 


iifornia 

onal 

ity 


WRITT;  ILUEKT. 

iniU'R  SULLIVAN'. 


N'KW    YORK, 


! 


Mathushek 

FREELY    AM)    UMYKRSALLY    ENDORSED 

The  Perfection  of  Pianos 

A  Complete  Triumph  in  Piano  Manufacture. 

OUR   WONDERFUL 

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together  with  a  close  application  of  the 
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The   only  durable   Upright    Pianos,   made 
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Inspection  tnvitfd.     I'n,-,*  I. fur       'f <•/•»»»  A'»w/. 


Mathushek  Piano  Mfg.  Co.? 

WAREROOMS : 

20  EAST  FOUUTEEJYTU  ST. 

ILLUSTRATED  PAMPHLETS  MAILED  FREE. 

We   hereby  caution  the  public  against  bogus  instruments, 
represented  as  genuine  MATHUSHEK  PIANOS. 


UCSB  LIBRARY 

HER    MAJESTY'S  SHIP 

'PINAFORE; 


OR, 


THE  LASS  THAT  LOVED  A  SAILOR. 


AN  ENTIRELY    ORIGINAL    COMIC    OPERA, 


IN   TWO   ACTS. 


WRITTEN  BY  W.  S.  GILBERT. 
COMPOSED  BY  ARTHUR   SULLIVAN. 


NEW  YORK : 
A.  S.  SEER,  PRINTER, 
96  UNION  SQUARE  (Fourth  Ave.  and  isth  St.) 
1879. 


DRAMATIS  PERSONS. 


The  RT.  HON.  SIR  JOSEPH  PORTER,  K.  C.  B.,  First  Lord 
of  the  Admiralty. 

CATT.  CORCORAN,  Commanding  H.  M.  S.  "  PINAFORE." 
RALPH  RACKSTRAW,  Able  Seaman. 
DICK  DKADEYE,  Able  Seaman. 
Bll.i.  BOBSTAY,  Boatswain. 
Bon  BECKET,  Carpenter's  Mate. 
TOM  TUCKER,  Midshipman. 
TOM  BOWLIN. 

JOSEPHINE,  the  Captain's  Daughter. 
LITTLE  BUTTERCUP,  a  Portsmouth  Bumboat  Woman. 
HEISE,   Sir  Joseph's  First  Cousin. 

FIRST    LORD'S  SISTERS,   His    COUSINS,  AND    His  AUNTS. 
Sailors,  Etc.,  by  a  Full  Chorus. 


SCENE:  Deck  of  II.  M.  S.  "  Phiaforc"  off  Portsmouth,  England. 


First  produced  in   London  (at  the  Opera  Comique),  May  25th, 
1878,  and  still  continuing  one  of  the  chief  attractions  of  the  day. 


"H,  M. 'S.  PINAFORE;1" 

OR, 

THE   LASS    THAT   LOVED    A   SAILOU 
^n  ftttir*hj  (Original  ^lautical  Comic  (Opera. 


Written  by        -  -        W.  S.  GILBERT. 

Composed  by        -  ARTHUR    SULLIVAN. 


T     I  . 

SCENE. — Quarter-deck  of  H.  M.  S.  "Pinafore."  VIC-M  of  fcr/s- 
moutk  in  distance.  Sailors,  led  bv  Boatswain,  discovered 
ckaning  brassu'ork,  splicing  rope,  etc. 

CHORUS. 

We  sail  the  ocean  blue. 

And  our  saucy  ship's  a  beauty, 
We're  sober  men  and  true, 

And  attentive  to  our  duty. 
When  the  balls  whistle  free  over  the  bright  blue  sea, 

We  stand  to  our  guns  all  day  ; 
When  at  anchor  we  ride  on  the  Portsmouth  tide, 

We  have  plenty  of  time  for  play. 

(Enter  LITTLE  BnTKRcrp.  with  large  basket  on  her  arm.} 

RECIT. 

Hail,  men-o'-war's  men — safeguards  of  your  nation, 
Here  is  an  end  at  la.  t  of  all  privation  ; 
You've  got  your  pay-   spare  all  you  can  afford 
To  welcome  Little  But  ^rcup  on  board.       N 

AKIA. 

For  I'm  called  Little  Buttercup — dear  Little  Buttercur 
Though  I  could  never  tell  why  ; 


But  still  I'm  called  Buttercup — poor  Little  Buttercup, 

Sweet  Little  Buttercup,  I. 
I've  snuff  and  tobaccy,  and  excellent  jacky  ; 

I've  scissors  and  watches  and  knives  ; 
.     I've  ribbons  and  laces  to  set  off  the  faces 

Of  pretty  young  sweethearts  and  wives. 
I've  treacle  and  toffy,  and  excellent  coffee, 

Soft  tommy  and  succulent  chops  ; 
I've  chickens  and  conies  and  pretty  polonies, 

And  excellent  peppermint  drops. 
Then  buy  of  your  Buttercup — dear  little  Buttercup, 

Sailors  should  never  be  shy  ; 
So  buy  of  your  Buttercup — poor  little  Buttercup, 

Come,  of  your  Buttercup  buy  ! 

BOAT.  Aye,  little  Buttercup— and  well  called — for  you're  the 
rosiest,  the  roundest,  and  the  reddest  beauty  in  all  Spithead. 

BUT.  Red,  am  I?  and  round,  and  rosy?  May  be,  for  I  have 
dissembled  well.  But,  hark  ye,  my  merry  friend,  hast  ever  thought 
that  beneath  a  gay  and  frivolous  exterior  there  may  lurk  a  canker- 
worm  which  is  slowly,  but  surely,  eating  its  way  into  one's  very 
heart  ? 

BOAT.     No,  my  lass,  I  can't  say  I've  ever  thought  that. 

(Enter  DICK  DKAUKYK.) 

DICK,     /have  thought  it  often.     (All  recoil  from  him.) 

BUT.  Yes,  you  look  like  it.  What's  the  matter  with  the  man  ? 
Isn't  he  well  ? 

BOAT.  Don't  take  no  heed  of  hi  HI,  that's  only  poor  Dick  Dead- 
eye. 

DICK.     I  say — it's  a  beast  of  a  name,  ain't  it — Dick  Deadeye  ? 

BUT.     It's  not  a  nice  name. 

DICK.     I'm  ugly  too,  ain't  I. 

BUT.     You  are  certainly  plain. 

DICK.     And  I'm  three-cornered  too,  ain't  I  ? 

BUT.     You  are  rather  triangular. 

DICK.  Ha  !  ha  !  That's  it.  I'm  ugly,  and  they  hate  me  for  it ; 
for  you  all  hate  me,  don't  you  ? 

BOAT.  Well,  Dick,  we  would'nt  go  for  to  hurt  any  fellow 
creatur's  feelings,  but  you  can't  expect  a  chap  with  such  a  name  as 
Dick  Deadeye  to  be  a  popular  character — now  can  you  ? 

DICK.     No. 

BOAT.     It's  asking  too  much,  ain't  it  ? 

DICK.  It  is.  From  such  a  face  and  form  as  mine  the  noblest 
sentiments  sound  like  the  black  utterances  of  a  depraved  imagi- 
nation. It  is  human  nature — I  am  resigned. 

RKCIT. 

BUT.     But,  tell  me — Who's  the  you:n  whose  faltering  feet 

With  difficulty  bear  him  o.i  his  course  ? 
BOAT.  That  is  the  smartest  lad  in  all  the  fleet — 

Ralph  Rackstraw  ! 
Bur.     Ha  !  that  name  !     Remorse  !  remorse  ! 


rt 

(Enter  RALPH.) 

MADRIGAL — RALPH. 

The  Nightingale 
Loved  the  pale  moon's  bright  ray, 

And  told  his  tale 
In  his  own  melodious  way  ! 

He  sang,  "Ah,  well-a-day  !" 
ALL,  He  sang,  "  Ah,  well-a-day  !" 

The  lowly  Vale 
For  the  Mountain  vainly  sighed, 

To  his  humble  wail 
The  echoing  hills  replied. 

They  sang,  "Ah,  well-a-day  !  " 
ALL.  They  sang,  "Ah,  well-a-day  !  " 

RECIT. 

I  know  the  value  of  a  kindly  chorus, 
But  choruses  yield  little  consolation, 

When  we  have  pain  and  trouble  too  before  us  ! 
I  love — and  love,  alas,  above  my  station  ! 

BUT.  (Aside.)     He  loves — and  loves  a  lass  above  his  station  ! 
ALL.  (Aside.)    Yes,  yes,  the  lass  is  much  above  his  station. 

BALLAD — RALPH  . 

A  maiden  fair  to  see, 
The  pearl  of  minstrelsy, 

A  bud  of  blushing  beauty, 
For  whom  proud  nobles  sigh, 
And  with  each  other  vie 

To  do  her  menial's  duty. 
ALL.  To  do  her  menial's  duty. 

A  suitor,  lowly  born, 
With  hopeless  passion  torn, 

And  poor  beyond  concealing, 
Has  dared  for  her  to  pine 
At  whose  exalted  shrine 

A  world  of  wealth  is  kneeling  ! 
ALL.  A  world  of  wealth  is  kneeling  ! 

Unlearned  he  in  aught 
Save  that  which  love  has  taught 

(For  love  had  been  his  tutor)  ; 
Oh,  pity,  pity  me — 
Our  captain's  daughter  she, 

And  I  that  lowly  suitor  ! 
ALL.  And  he  that  lowly  suitor  ! 

(Exit  LITTLE  BUTTERCUP). 


BOAT.  Ah,  my  poor  lad,  you've  climbed  too  high  ;  our  worthy 
captain's  child  won't  have  nothin'  to  say  to  a  poor  chap  like  you. 
Will  she,  lads  ? 

DICK.     No,  no,  captains'  daughters  don't  marry  foremast  jacks. 

ALL.     (Recoiling  from  him.)     Shame  !  shame  ! 

BOAT.  Dick  Deadeye,  them  sentiments  o'  yourn  are  a  disgrace 
to  our  common  natur'. 

RALPH.  But  it's  strange  that  the  daughter  of  a  man  who  hails 
from  the  quarter  deck  may  not  love  another  who  lays  out  on  the 
fore-yard  arm.  For  a  man  is  but  a  man,  whether  he  hoists  his  flag 
at  the  main  truck  or  his  slacks  on  the  main  deck. 

DICK.     Ah,  it's  a  queer  world  ! 

RALPH.  Dick  Deadeye,  I  have  no  desire  to  press  hardly  On  you, 
but  such  a  revolutionary  sentiment  is  enough  to  make  an  honest 
sailor  shudder. 

BOAT.  My  lads,  our  gallant  captain  has  come  on  deck ;  let  us 
greet  him  as  so  brave  an  officer  and  so  gallant  a  seaman  deserves. 


RECIT. 

CAPT.     My  gallant  crew,  good  morning. 
ALL.     (Saluting.)    Sir,  good  morning  ! 
CAPT.     I  hope  you're  all  well. 
ALL.     (As  before.)    Quite  well ;  and  you,  sir  ? 
CAPT.     I  am  in  reasonable  health,  and  happy 

To  meet  you  all  once  more. 
ALL.     (As  before.)     You  do  us  proud,  sir  ! 


SONG — CAPTAIN. 

CAPT.  I  am  the  Captain  of  the  "  Pinafore  !" 

ALL.  And  a  right  good  captain,  too  ! 

CAPT.          You're  very,  very  good, 

And  be  it  understood, 
I  command  a  right  good  crew. 
ALL.  We're  very,  very  good, 

And  be  it  understood, 
He  commands  a  right  good  crew. 


CAPT.          Though  related  to  a  peer, 

I  can  hand,  reef  and  steer, 
And  ship  a  salvagee  ; 

I  am  never  known  to  quail 

At  the  fury  of  a  gale, 
And  I'm  never,  never  sick  at  sea  ! 
ALL.  What,  never? 

CAPT.  No,  never ! 

ALL.  What,  never? 

CAPT.  Hardly  ever  ! 

ALL.  He's  hardly  ever  sick  at  sea  ! 

Then  give  three  cheers,  and  one  cheer  more 

For  the  hardy  Captain  of  the  "  Pinafore  !" 


CAPT.          I  do  my  best  to  satisfy  you  all— * 
ALL.  And  with  you  we're  quite  content. 

CAPT.  You're  exceedingly  polite, 

And  I  think  it  only  right 

To  return  the  compliment. 

ALL.  We're  exceedingly  polite, 

And  he  thinks  it  only  right 
To  return  the  compliment. 
CAPT.  Bad  language  or  abuse, 

I  never,  never  use, 
Whatever  the  emergency  ; 
Though  "bother  it,"  I  may 
Occasionally  say, 
I  never  use  a  big,  big  D — . 
ALL.  What,  never ! 

CAPT.  No,  never? 

ALL.  What,  never? 

CAPT.  Hardly  ever ! 

ALL.  Hardly  ever  swears  a  big,  big  D —  ; 

Then  give  three  cheers,  and  one  cheer  more 
For  the  well-bred  Captain  of  the  "  Pinafore  !" 

(After  Song,  exeunt  all  but  CAPTAIN".     Enter  LITTLE  BUTTERCUP.) 

BUT.  {Recit.}  Sir,  you  are  sad—the  silent  eloquence 

Of  yonder  tear  that  trembles  on  your  eyelash 
Proclaims  a  sorrow  far  more  deep  than  common  ; 
Confide  in  me — fear  not — I  am  a  mother  ! 

CAPT.          Yes,  Little  Buttercup,  I'm  sad  and  sorry—- 
My daughter  Josephine,  the  fairest  flower 
That  ever  blossomed  on  ancestral  timber, 
Is  sought  in  marriage  by  Sir  Joseph  Porter, 
Our  Admiralty's  First  Lord,  but  for  some  reason 
She  does  not  seem  to  tackle  kindly  to  it. 

BUT.  (With  emotion?)  Ah,  poor  Sir  Joseph  !     Ah,  I  know  too  Weil 
The  anguish  of  a  heart  that  loves  but  vainly  ! 
But  see,  here  comes  your  most  attractive  daughter. 
I  go.     Farewell !  [Exit. 

CAPT.     (Looking  after  her.)     A  plump  and  pleasing  person  ! 

(Enter  JOSEPHINE,  tivinitig  some  flowers  which  she  carries  in  a  small 
basket.) 

BALLAD — JOSEPHINE. 

Sorry  her  lot  who  loves  too  well, 

Heavy  the  heart  that  hopes  but  vainly, 
Sad  are  the  sighs  that  own  the  spell, 
Uttered  by  eyes  that  speak  too  plainly  ; 
Heavy  the  sorrow  that  bows  the  head 
When  love  is  alive  and  hope  is  dead  ! 

Sad  is  the  hour  when  sets  the  sun — 

Dark  is  the  night  to  earth's  poor  daughters, 


When  to  the  ark  the  wearied  one 

Flies  from  the  empty  waste  of  waters  ! 
Heavy  the  sorrow  that  bows  the  head 
When  love  is  alive  and  hope  is  dead  ! 


CAPT.  My  child,  I  grieve  to  see  that  you  are  a  prey  to  melan- 
choly. You  should  look  your  best  to-day,  for  Sir  Joseph  Porter, 
K.  C.  B.,  will  be  here  this  afternoon  to  claim  your  promised 
hand. 

Jos.  Ah,  father,  your  words  cut  me  to  the  quick.  I  can  es- 
teem— reverence — venerate  Sir  Joseph,  for  he  is  a  great  and  good 
man  ;  but  oh  I  cannot  love  him  !  My  heart  is  already  given. 

CAPT.  (Aside.)  It  is  then  as  I  feared.  (Aloud.)  Given  ?  And 
to  whom  ?  Not  to  some  gilded  lordling  ? 

Jos.  No,  father — the  object  of  my  love  is  no  lordling.  Oh, 
pity  me,  for  he  is  but  a  humble  sailor  on  board  your  own  ship  ! 

CAPT.     Impossible  ! 

Jos.     Yes,  it  is  true — too  true  ! 

CAPT.     A  common  sailor  ?  oh  fie  ! 

Jos.  I  blush  for  the  weakness  that  allows  me  to  cherish  such  a 
passion.  I  hate  myself  when  I  think  of  the  depth  to  which  I  have 
stooped  in  permitting  myself  to  think  tenderly  of  one  so  ignobly 
born,  but  I  love  him  !  I  love  him  !  I  love  him  ! 

CAPT.  Come,  my  child,  let  us  talk  this  over.  In  a  matter  of 
the  heart  I  would  not  coerce  my  daughter — I  attach  but  little  value 
to  rank  or  wealth,  but  the  line  must  be  drawn  somewhere.  A  man 
in  that  station  may  be  brave  and  worthy,  but  at  every  step  he 
would  commit  solecisms  that  society  would  never  pardon.  % 

Jos.  Oh,  I  have  thought  of  this  night  and  day.  But  fear  not, 
father  :  I  have  a  heart,  and  therefore  I  love  ;  but  I  am  your 
daughter,  and  therefore  I  am  proud.  Though  I  carry  my  love 
with  me  to  the  tomb,  he  shall  never,  never  know  it. 

CAPT.  You  are  my  daughter,  after  all.  But  see,  Sir  Joseph's 
barge  approaches,  manned  by  twelve  trusty  oarsmen  and  accom- 
panied by  the  admiring  crowd  of  female  relatives  that  attend  him 
wherever  he  goes.  Retire,  my  daughter,  to  your  cabin — take  this, 
his  photograph,  with  you — it  may  help  to  bring  you  to  a  more 
reasonable  frame  of  mind. 

Jos.     My  own  thoughtful  father  ! 

(Embrace  and  exit.     CAPTAIN  remains?) 

BARCAROLE.     (Invisible.) 

Over  the  bright  blue  sea 

Comes  Sir  Joseph  Porter,  K.  C.  B., 

Wherever  he  may  go 

Bang-bang  the  loud  nine-pounders  go  ! 

Shout  o'er  the  bright  blue  sea 

For  Sir  Joseph  Porter,  K.  C.  B.  ! 

(During  this  the  crew  have  entered  on  tiptoe,  listening  attentively  to 
the  song.) 


CHORUS  OF  SAILORS. 

We  sail  the  ocean  blue, 

And  our  saucy  ship's  a  beauty, 
We're  sober  men  and  true, 

And  attentive  to  our  duty. 
We're  smart  and  sober  men, 

And  quite  devoid  of  fe-ar, 
In  all  the  Royal  N. 

None  are  so  smart  as  we  are. 

(Enter  SIR  JOSEPH'S  FEMALE  RELATIVES.     They  dance  round  stage.) 

REL.  Gayly  tripping, 

Lightly  skipping, 

Flock  the  maidens  to  the  shipping. 
SAILORS.     Flags  and  guns  and  pennants  dipping  ! 

All  the  ladies  love  the  shipping. 
REL.  Sailors  sprightly, 

Always  rightly, 

Welcome  ladies  so  politely  ; 
SAILORS.     Ladies  who  can  smile  so  brightly, 

Sailors  welcome  most  politely. 

Enter  SIR  JOSEPH  -with  COUSIN  HEBE.) 

CAPT.  (from  Poop}.     Now  give  three  cheers,  I'll  lead  the  way, 
ALL.  Hurrah  !  hurrah  !  hurrah  !  hurray  ! 

Repeat. 

SONG — SIR  JOSEPH. 

I  am  the  monarch  of  the  sea, 
The  ruler  of  the  Queen's  navee, 
Whose  praise  Great  Britain  loudly  chants. 
COUSIN  HEBE.     And  we  are  his  sisters,  and  his  cousins,  and  his 

aunts  ! 
REL.  And  we  are  his  sisters,  and  his  cousins,  and  his 

aunts  ! 

SIR  JOSEPH.-          When  at  anchor  here  I  ride, 
My  bosom  swells  with  pride, 
And  I  snap  my  fingers  at  a  foeman's  taunts  ; 
COUSIN   HEBE.     And  so  do   his  sisters,  and  his  cousins,  and   his 

aunts  ! 
ALL.  And   so  do   his   sisters,  and   his  cousins,  and   his 

aunts  ! 
SIR  JOSEPH.  But  when  the  breezes  blow, 

I  generally  go  below, 

And  seek  the  seclusion  that  a  cabin  grants  ! 
COUSIN  HEBE.     And  so  do  his  sisters,  and  his  cousins,  and  his 

aunts  ! 
ALL.  And   so  do   his   sisters,  and   his  cousins,  and   his 

aunts  ! 

His  sisters  and  his  cousins, 
Whom  he  reckons  up  by  dozens, 
And  his  aunts  ! 


10 


SONG — SIR  JOSEPH. 

When  I  was  a  lad  I  served  a  term 

As  office  boy  to  an  attorney's  firm. 

I  cleaned  the  windows  and  I  swept  the  floor, 

And  I  polished  up  the  handle  of  the  big  front  door. 
I  polished  up  that  handle  so  carefullee, 
That  now  I  am  the  Ruler  of  the  Queen's  Navee  ! 

Chorus  :  He  polished,  etc. 

As  office  boy  I  made  such  a  mark 
That  they  gave  me  the  post  of  a  junior  clerk. 
I  served  the  writs  with  a  smile  so  bland, 
And  I  copied  all  the  letters  in  a  big,  round  hand  ; 
I  copied  all  the  letters  in  a  hand  so  free, 
That  now  I  am  the  Ruler  of  the  Queen's  Navee  ! 

Clwrns  :  He  copied,  etc. 

In  serving  writs  I  made  such  a  name, 

That  an  articled  clerk  I  soon  became  ; 

I  wore  clean  collars  and  a  bran  new  suit, 

For  the  pass  examination  at  the  Institute. 

And  that  pass  examination  did  so  well  for  me, 
That  now  I  am  the  Ruler  of  the  Queen's  Navee  ! 

Chorus  :  And  that  pass  examination,  eu 

Of  legal  knowledge  I  acquired  such  a  grip, 

That  they  took  me  into  partnership. 

And  that  junior  partnership,  I  ween, 

Was  the  only  ship  that  I  ever  had  seen. 
But  that  kind  of  a  ship  so  suited  me, 
That  now  I  am  the  Ruler  of  the  Queen's  Navee  ! 

Chorus  :  But  that  kind,  etc. 

I  grew  so  rich  that  I  was  sent 

By  a  pocket  borough  into  Parliament. 

I  always  voted  at  my  party's  call, 

And  I  never  thought  of  thinking  for  myself  at  all. 
I  thought  so  little,  they  rewarded  me 
By  making  me  the  Ruler  of  the  Queen's  Navee  ! 

Chorus  :  He  thought  so  little,  etc. 

Now,  lansdmen  all,  whoever  you  may  be, 
If  you  want  to  rise  to  the  top  of  the  tree, 
If  your  soul  isn't  fettered  to  an  office  stool, 
Be  careful  to  be  guided  by  this  golden  rule  : 

Stick  close  to  your  desks,  and  never  go  to  sea, 
And  you  all  may  be  Rulers  of  the  Queen's  Navee  ! 
Chorus  :  Stick  close,  etc. 

SIR  JOSEPH.     You've    a    remarkably    fine    crew.    Captain   Co 
coran. 


11 

„•  « 

CAPT.     It  is  a  fine  crew,  Sir  Joseph. 

SIR  JOSEPH.  (Examining  a  very  small  midshipman}.  A  British 
sailor  is  a  splendid  fellow,  Captain  Corcoran. 

CAPT.     A  splendid  fellow  indeed,  Sir  Joseph. 

SIR  JOSEPH.  I  hope  you  treat  your  crew  kindly,  Captain 
Corcoran. 

CAPT.     Indeed,  I  hope  so,  Sir  Joseph. 

SIR  JOSEPH.  Never  forget  that  they  are  the  bulwarks  of  Eng- 
land's greatness,  Captain  Corcoran. 

CAPT.     So  I  have  always  considered  them,  Sir  Joseph. 

SIR  JOSEPH.  No  bullying,  I  trust ;  no  strong  language  of  any 
kind,  eh? 

CAPT.     Oh,  never,  Sir  Joseph  ! 

SIR  JOSEPH.     What,  never! 

CAPT.  Hardly  ever,  Sir  Joseph.  They  are  an  excellent  crew, 
and  do  their  work  thoroughly  without  it. 

SIR  JOSEPH.  (Reproving).  Don't  patronize  them,  Sir — pray 
don't  patronize  them. 

CAPT.     Certainly  not,  Sir  Joseph. 

SIR  JOSEPH.  That  you  are  their  Captain  is  an  accident  of  birth. 
I  cannot  permit  these  noble  fellows  to  be  patronized  because  an 
accident  of  birth  has  placed  you  above  them  and  them  below  y»u. 

CAPT.  I  am  the  last  person  to  insult  a  British  sailor,  Sir 
Joseph. 

SIR  JOSEPH.  You  are  the  last  person  who  did,  Captain  Corcoran. 
Desire  that  splendid  seaman  to  step  forward. 

CAPT.     Ralph  Rackstraw,  come  here. 

SIR  JOSEPH.     (Sfemfy).     If  what  ? 

CAPT.     I  beg  your  pardon — 

SIR  JOSEPH.     If  yo\iplease. 

CAPT.  Oh,  yes,  of  course,  if  you  please.  (RALPH  steps  for- 
ward. 

SIR  JOSEPH.     You're  a  remarkably  fine  fellow. 

RALPH.     Yes,  your  honor. 

SIR  JOSEPH.     And  a  first-rate  seaman  I'll  be  bound. 

RALPH.  There's  not  a  smarter  topman  in  the  navy,  your  honor, 
though  I  say  it  who  shouldn't. 

SIR  JOSEPH.  Not  at  all.  Proper  self-respect,  nothing  more. 
Can  you  dance  a  hornpipe  ? 

RALPH.     No,  your  honor. 

SIR  JOSEPH.  That's  a  pity.  All  sailors  should  dance  hornpipes. 
I  will  teach  you  one  this  evening,  after  dinner.  Now  tell  me — 
don't  be  afraid — how  does  your  captain  treat  you,  eh  ? 

RALPH.     A  better  captain  don't  walk  the  deck,  your  honor. 

ALL.     Hear ! 

SIR  JOSEPH.  Good.  I  like  to  hear  you  speak  well  of  your  com- 
manding officer  ;  I  dare  say  he  don't  deserve  it,  but  still  it  does  you 
credit.  Can  you  sing  ? 

RALPH.     I  can  hum  a  little,  your  honor. 

SIR  JOSEPH.  Then  hum  this  at  your  leisure.  (Giving  him  MS. 
Music).  It  is  a  song  that  I  have  composed  for  the  use  of  the  Royal 
Navy.  It  is  designed  to  encourage  independence  of  thought  and 
action  in  the  lower  branches  of  the  service,  and  to  teach  the  princi- 
ple that  a  British  sailor  is  any  man's  equal,  excepting  mine.  Now, 
Captain  Corcoran,  a  word  with  you  in  your  cabin,  on  a  tender  and 
sentimental  subject. 


CAPT.  Aye,  aye,  Sir  Joseph.  Boatswain,  in  commemoration 
of  this  joyous  occasion,  see  that  extra  grog  is  served  out  to  the 
chip's  company  at  seven  bells. 

BOAT.     Beg  pardon.     If  what,  your  honor  ? 

CAPT.     If  what  ?     I  don't  thing  I  understand  you. 

BOAT.     If  you  please,  your  honor. 

CAPT.     What ! 

SIR  JOSEPH.     The  gentleman  is  quite  right.     If  you.  please. 

CAPT.     (Stamping  his  foot  impatiently.')     If  you  please  ! 

SIR  JOSEPH.     For  I  hold  that  on  the  seas 

The  expression  "  if  you  please  " 

A  particularly  gentlemanly  tone  implants. 
COUSIN  HEBE.     And  so  do  his  sisters,  and  his  cousins,  and  his 

aunts  ! 

VLL.  And  so  do  his  sisters,  and  his  cousins,  and  his 

aunts  ! 

(Exeunt  CAPTAIN,  SIR  JOSEPH,  and  RELATIVE'S.) 

BOAT.  Ah  !  Sir  Joseph's  a  true  gentleman  ;  courteous  and 
considerate  to  the  very  humblest. 

RALPH.  True,  Boatswain,  but  we  are  not  the  very  humblest. 
Sic  Joseph  has  explained  our  true  position  to  us.  As  he  says,  a 
British  seaman  is  any  man's  equal  excepting  his  ;  and  if  Sir  Joseph 
says  that,  is  it  not  our  duty  to  believe  him  ? 

ALL.     Well  spoke  !  well  spoke  ! 

DICK.  You're  on  a  wrong  tack,  and  so  is  he.  He  means  well, 
but  he  don't  know.  When  people  have  to  obey  other  people's 
orders,  equality's  out  of  the  question. 

ALL.     (Recoiling.')     Horrible  !  horrible  ! 

BOAT.  Dick  Deadeye,  if  you  go  for  to  infuriate  this  here  ship's 
crew  too  far,  I  won't  answer  for  being  able  to  hold  'em  in.  I'm 
shocked  !  that's  what  I  am — shocked  ! 

RALPH.  Messmates,  my  mind's  made  up.  I'll  speak  to  the 
captain's  daughter,  and  tell  her,  like  an  honest  man,  of  the  honest 
love  I  have  for  her. 

ALL.     Hurrah  ! 

RALPH.  Is  not  my  love  as  good  as  another's  ?  Is  not  my  heart 
as  true  as  another's  ?  Have  I  not  hands  and  eyes  and  ears  and 
limbs  like  another? 

ALL.     Aye,  aye  ! 

RALPH.     True,  I  lack  birth — 

BOAT.     You've  a  berth  on  board  this  very  ship. 

RALPH.  Well  said — I  had  forgotten  that.  Messmates — what  do 
you  say  ?  do  you  approve  my  determination  ? 

ALL.     We  do. 

DICK.     /  don't. 

BOAT.  What  is  to  be  done  with  this  here  hopeless  chap  ?  Let 
us  sing  him  the  song  that  Sir  Joseph  has  kindly  composed  for  us. 
Perhaps  it  will  bring  this  here  miserable  creetur  to  a  proper  state 
A  mind. 

[>LEE — RALPH,  BOATSWAIN  and  BOATSWAIN'S  MATE,  and  CHORUS. 

A  British  tar  is  a  soaring  soul, 
As  free_  as  a  mountain  bird. 


13 

His  energetic  fist  should  be  ready  to  resist 
A  dictatorial  word. 

His  nose  should  pant  and  his  lip  should  curl, 
His  cheeks  should  flame  and  his  brow  should  furl, 
His  bosom  should  heave  and  his  heart  should  glow, 
And  his  fist  be  ever  ready  for  a  knock-down  blow. 

Chorus  :  His  nose  should  pant,  etc. 

His  eyes  should  flash  with  an  inborn  fire, 

His  brow  with  scorn  be  wrung  ; 
He  never  should  bow  down  to  a  domineering  frown, 

Or  the  tang  of  a  tyrant  tongue. 
His  foot  should  stamp  and  his  throat  should  growl, 
His  hair  should  twirl  and  his  face  should  scowl ; 
His  eyes  should  flash  and  his  breast  protrude, 
And  this  should  be  his  customary  attitude  ! 

Chorus  :  His  foot  should  stamp,  etc. 

(All  exeunt  excepting  RALPH,  who  remains,  leaning-  pensively  against 
bulwark.) 

(Enter  JOSEPHINE.) 

Jos.  It  is  useless  — Sir  Joseph's  attentions  nauseate  me.  I 
know  that  he  is  a  truly  great  and  good  man,  but  to  me  he  seems 
tedious,  fretful,  and  dictatorial.  Yet  his  must  be  a  mind  of  no 
common  order,  or  he  would  not  dare  to  teach  my  dear  father  to 
dance  a  hornpipe  on  the  cabin  table.  (Sees  RALPH.)  Ralph  Rack- 
straw  !  (Overcome  by  emotion.) 

RALPH.     Aye,  lady — no  other  than  poor  Ralph  Rackstraw. 

Jos.  (Aside.)  How  my  heart  beats  !  (Aloud.)  And  why  poor, 
Ralph  ? 

RALPH.  I  am  poor  in  happiness,  lady — rich  only  in  unrest.  In 
me  there  meet  a  combination  of  elements  which  are  at  eternal  war 
with  one  another.  Driven  hither  and  thither — wafted  one  moment 
into  blazing  day,  by  mocking  hope  —  plunged  the  next  into  the 
darkness  of  despair,  I  am  but  a  living  embodiment  of  positive 
contradictions.  I  hope  I  make  myself  clear,  lady  ? 

Jos.  Perfectly.  (Aside.)  His  simple  eloquence  goes  to  my 
heart.  Oh,  if  I  dared — but  no,  the  thought  is  madness  !  (Aloud.) 
Dismiss  these  foolish  fancies,  they  torture  you  but  needlessly. 
Come,  make  one  effort. 

RALPH.     (Aside.)     I  will — one.     (Aloud^)    Josephine ! 

Jos.     (Indignantly.)     Sir ! 

RALPH.  Aye,  even  though  Jove's  armory  were  launched  at  the 
head  of  the  audacious  mortal  whose  lips  dared  to  breathe  that  pre- 
cious word,  yet  would  I  breathe  it  once,  and  then  perchance  be 
silent  evermore.  Josephine,  I  am  a  British  sailor,  and  I  love  you  ! 

Jos.  Sir,  this  audacity  !  (Aside.)  Oh  my  heart,  my  heart  ! 
(Aloud.)  This  unwarrantable  presumption  on  the  part  of  a  com- 
mon sailor  !  (Aside.)  Common  !  oh,  the  irony  of  the  world  ! 
(Aloud.)  Oh,  sir,  you  forget  the  disparity  in  our  ranks. 


14 


RALPH.  I  forget  nothing,  haughty  lady.  I  love  you  desperately. 
Give  me  hope,  or  drive  me  to  despair.  I  have  spoken  and  I  wait 
your  word. 

Jos.  You  shall  not  wait  long.  Your  proffered  love  I  haughtily 
reject.  Go,  sir,  and  learn  to  cast  your  eyes  on  some  village  maiden 
in  your  own  poor  rank — they  should  be  lowered  before  your  cap- 
tain's daughter  ! 

DUET — JOSEPHINE  and  RALPH. 

Jos.  Refrain,  audacious  tar, 

Your  suit  from  pressing, 
Remember  what  you  are, 

And  whom  addressing ! 
Proud  lords  do  seek  my  hand 

In  throngs  assemble, 
The  loftiest  in  the  land 

Bow  down  and  tremble  ! 
(Aside.)  I'd  laugh  my  rank  to  scorn 

In  union  holy, 
Were  he  more  highly  born 

Or  I  more  lowly  ? 
RALPH.  Proud  lady,  have  your  way, 

Unfeeling  beauty  ! 
You  speak  and  I  obey, 

It  is  my  duty  ! 
I  am  the  lowliest  tar 

That  sails  the  water, 
And  you,  proud  maiden,  are 

My  captain's  daughter  ! 
(Asidf.)  My  heart  with  anguish  torn 

Bows  down  before  her, 
She  laughs  my  love  to  scorn; 

Yet  I  adore  her  ! 

Exit  JOSEPHINE.) 


RALPH,     (fiecit.)     Can  I  survive  this  overbearing, 
Or  live  a  life  of  mad  despairing, 
My  proffered  love  despised,  rejected  ? 
No,  no,  it's  not  to  be  expected  ! 


(Calling  off.) 

Messmates,  ahoy  ! 
Come  here  ! 


Come  here  ! 


(Enter  SAILORS,  HEBE  and  RELATIVES.) 

ALL.  Aye,  aye,  my  boy, 

What  cheer,  what  cheer  ? 

Now,  tell  us  pray, 

Without  delay, 

What  does  she  say — 
What  cheer,  what  cheer  ? 


RALPH  (to  COUSIN  HEBE). 

The  maiden  treats  my  suit  with  scorn, 

Rejects  my  humble  love,  my  lady, 
She  says  I  am  ignobly  born, 

And  cuts  my  hopes  adrift,  my  lady. 
ALL.  Oh,  cruel  one  ! 

DICK.  She  spurns  your  suit  ?    Oho  !  Oho  ! 

I  told  you  so,  I  told  you  so. 
SAILORS  and  RELATIVES. 

Shall  |  t£fy  j-  submit  ?    Are  j  t £fy  |  but  slaves  ? 

Love  comes  alike  to  high  and  low  ; 
Britannia's  sailors  rule  the  waves, 

And  shall  they  stoop  to  insult  ?  no  ! 
DICK.          You  must  submit,  you  are  but  slaves  ; 

A  lady  she  !     Oho  !  Oho  ! 
You  lowly  toilers  of  the  waves, 

She  spurns  you  all — I  told  you  so  ! 

(Goes  o/.*) 
RALPH.     (Drawing  a  pistol. ) 

My  friends,  my  leave  of  life  I'm  taking, 
For  oh,  for  oh,  my  heart  is  breaking  ! 
When  I  am  gone,  oh,  prithee,  tell 
The  maid  that,  as  I  died,  I  loved  her  well ! 

(Loading  it.) 
ALL.     (Turning away,  weeping?) 

Of  life,  alas,  his  leave  he's  taking  ! 

For  ah  !  his  faithful  heart  is  breaking. 

When  he  is  gone,  we'll  surely  tell 

The  maid  that,  as  he  died,  he  loved  her  well. 

(During  CHORUS  he  has  loaded  pistol.) 

RALPH.  Be  warned,  my  messmates,  all 

Who  love  in  rank  above  you, 
For  Josephine  I  fall  ! 

(Puts  pistol  to  his  /lead.     All  the  sailors  stop  their  ears.~) 
(Enter  JOSEPHINE.) 

Jos.  Ah  !  stay  your  hand  !  I  love  you  ! 

ALL.  Ah  !  stay  your  hand — she  loves  you  ! 

RALPH.       (Incredulously.)     Loves  me  ? 
Jos.  Loves  you  ! 

ALL.     Yes,  yes  :  ah,  yes  !  she  loves  you  ! 

ENSEMBLE. 

SAILORS  and  RELATIVES,  and  JOSEPHINE. 
O  joy  !  O  rapture,  unforeseen  ! 
For  now  the  sky  is  all  serene. 
The  god  of  day,  the  orb  of  love, 
Has  hung  his  ensign  high  above  ; 

The  sky  is  all  ablaze. 
With  wooing  words  and  loving  song, 
We'll  chase  the  lagging  hours  along, 


And  if 


the  maiden 


Jos. 

HEBE. 

RALPH. 

Jos. 

HEBE. 

RALPH. 

Jos. 

RALPH. 

BOAT. 

Jos. 

RALPH. 

BOAT. 

ALL. 


we  fitti 

*  W  '11  f  murmur  forth  decorous  joy 
In  dreamy  roundelays  ! 

DICK  DEADEYE. 

He  thinks  he's  won  his  Josephine, 
But  though  the  sky  is  now  serene, 
A  frowning  thunderbolt  above 
May  end  their  ill-assorted  love 

Which  now  is  all  ablaze. 
Our  captain,  ere  the  day  is  gone, 
Will  be  extremely  down  upon 
The  wicked  men,  who  art  employ 
To  make  his  Josephine  his  coy 
In  many  various  ways. 

This  very  night, 
With  bated  breath 
And  muffled  oar, 
Without  a  light, 
As  still  as  death, 
We'll  steal  ashore. 
A  clergyman 
Shall  make  us  one 
At  half-past  ten, 
And  then  we  can 
Return,  for  none 
Can  part  us  then  ! 
This  very  night,  etc. 

(DlCK  appears?) 


DICK.      Forbear,  nor  carry  out  the  scheme  you've  planned, 
She  is  a  lady  —  you  a  foremast  hand  ! 
Remember,  she's  your  gallant  captain's  daughter, 
And  yon  the  meanest  slave  that  crawls  the  water  ! 
ALL  Back,  vermin,  back, 

Nor  mock  us  ! 
Back,  vermin,  back, 

You  shock  us  ! 

Let's  give  three  cheers  for  the  sailor's  bride 
Who  casts  all  thought  of  rank  aside  — 
Who  gives  up  house  and  fortune  too 
For  the  honest  love  of  a  sailor  true  ! 

For  a  British  tar  is  a  soaring  soul 

As  free  as  a  mountain  bird  ; 
His  energetic  fist  should  be  ready  to  resist 

A  dictatorial  word  ! 

His  foot  should  stamp  and  his  throat  should  growl, 
His  hair  should  twirl  and  his  face  should  scowl, 
His  eyes  should  flash  and  his  breast  protrude, 
And  this  should  be  his  customary  attitude. 

CURTAIN. 
END  OF  ACT  I. 


II. 

Same  Scene.  Night.  CAPTAIN  discovered  singing,  and  accompany- 
ing himself  on  a  mandolin.  LITTLE  BUTTERCUP  seated  on 
quarter-deck,  gazing  sentimentally  at  him. 

SONG — CAPTAIN. 
Fair  moon,  to  thee  I  sing, 

Bright  regent  of  the  heavens, 
Say,  why  is  everything 

Either  at  sixes  or  at  sevens  ? 
I  have  lived,  hitherto, 

Free  from  the  breath  of  slander, 
^  Beloved  by  all  my  crew — 

A  really  popular  commander. 
But  now  my  kindly  crew  rebel, 

My  daughter  to  a  tar  is  partial, 
Sir  Joseph  storms,  and  sad  to  tell, 

He  threatens  a  court  martial  ! 
Fair  moon,  to  thee  I  sing, 

Bright  regent  of  the  heavens, 
Say,  why  is  everything 

Either  at  sixes  or  at  sevens  ? 

BUT.  How  sweetly  he  carols  forth  his  melody  to  the  unconscious 
moon!  Of  whom  is  he  thinking?  Of  some  high-born  beauty? 
It  may  be  !  (Sighing.}  Who  is  poor  little  Buttercup  that  she 
should  expect  his  glance  to  fall  on  one  so  lowly  !  And  yet  if  he 
knew — 

CAPT.  Ah  !  Little  Buttercup,  still  on  board  ?  That  is  not  quite 
right,  little  one.  It  would  have  been  more  respectable  to  have 
gone  on  shore  at  dusk. 

BUT.  True,  dear  Captain — but  the  recollection  of  your  sad  pale 
face  seemed  to  chain  me  to  the  ship.  I  would  fain  see  you  smile 
before  I  go. 

CAPT.  Ah  !  Little  Buttercup,  I  fear  it  will  be  long  before  I 
recover  my  accustomed  cheerfulness,  for  misfortunes  crowd  upon 
me,  and  all  my  old  friends  seemed  to  have  turned  against  me  ! 

BUT.  Oh,  no;  do  not  say  "all,"  dear  Captain.  That  were 
unjust  to  one,  at  least. 

CAPT.  True,  for  you  are  stanch  to  me.  (Aside.)  If  ever  I  gave 
my  heart  again,  methinks  it  would  be  to  such  an  one  as  this  ! 
(Aloud.)  I  am  touched  to  the  heart  by  your  innocent  regard  for 
me,  and  were  we  differently  situated,  I  think  I  could  have  returned 
it.  But  as  it  is,  I  fear  I  can  never  be  more  to  you  than  a  friend. 

BUT.  (Change  of  manner.)  I  understand  !  You  hold  aloof  from 
me  because  you  are  rich  and  lofty,  and  I,  poor  and  lowly.  But 
take  care  !  The  poor  bumboat  woman  has  gypsy  blood  in  her 
veins,  and  she  can  read  destinies.  There  is  a  change  in  store  for 
you. 

CAPT.     A  change  1 
BUT.     Aye,  be  prepared  ' 


18 


DUET— LITTLE  BUTTERCUP  and  CAPTAIN. 

BUT.         Things  are  seldom  what  they  seem, 
Skim-milk  masquerades  as  cream  ; 
Highlows  pass  as  patent  leathers, 
Jackdaws  strut  in  peacock's  feathers. 

CAPT.  (puzzled).     Very  true, 
So  they  do. 

BUT.         Black  sheep  dwell  in  every  fold, 
All  that  glitters  is  not  gold  ; 
Storks  turn  out  to  be  but  logs, 
Bulls  are  but  inflated  frogs. 

GAPT.  {puzzled}.     So  they  be, 
Frequentlee. 

BUT.         Drops  the  wind  and  stops  the  mill ; 

Turbot  is  ambitious  brill ; 

Gild  the  farthing  if  you  will, 

But  it  is  a  farthing  still. 
CAPT.  {puzzled}.     Yes,  I  know, 
That  is  so. 

CAPT.       Though  to  catch  your  drift  I'm  striving, 

It  is  shady  ;   it  is  shady  ; 
I  don't  see  at  what  you're  driving, 

Mystic  lady,  mystic  lady. 
(Aside}     Stern  conviction's  o'er  me  stealing, 
That  the  mystic  lady's  dealing 
In  oracular  revealing. 

BUT.  (asidf).  Stern  conviction's  o'er  him  stealing, 
That  the  mystic  lady's  dealing 
In  oracular  revealing. 
BOTH.  Yes,  I  know — 

That  is  so. 

CAPT.       Though  I'm  anything  but  clever, 
I  could  talk  like  that  forever  ; 
Once  a  cat  was  killed  by  care, 
Only  brave  deserve  the  fair. 

BUT.  Very  true, 

So  they  do. 

CAPT.      Wink  is  often  good  as  nod  ; 

Spoils  the  child  who  spares  the  rod  ; 
Thirsty  lambs  run  foxy  dangers, 
Dogs  are  found  in  many  mangers. 

BUT.  Frequentlee, 

I  agree. 

CAPT.      Paw  of  cat  the  chestnut  snatches, 

Worn-out  garments  show  new  patches  ; 
Only  count  the  chick  that  hatches  ; 
Men  are  grown  up  catchy-catchies. 

BUT.  Yes,  I  know, 

That  is  so. 


19 

(A si <ie.~)    Though  to  catch  my  drift  he's  striving, 

I'll  dissemble — I'll  dissemble  ; 
When  he  sees  at  what  I'm  driving, 
Let  him  tremble — let  him  tremble  ! 

ENSEMBLE. 

Though  a  mystic  tone  \          1  borrow, 

V  11  f  "earn  tfte  truth  witn  sorrow, 

Here  to-day  and  gone  to-morrow  ; 

Yes,  I  know — 

That  is  so. 

(At  the  eiut.  exit  LITTLK  BUTTERCUP, 

CAPT.  Incomprehensible  as  her  utterances  are,  I  nevertheless 
feel  that  they  are  dictated  by  sincere  regard  for  me.  But  to  what 
new  misery  is  she  referring  ?  Time  alone  can  tell  ! 

(Enter  SIR  JOSEPH.) 

SIR  JOSEPH.  Captain  Corcoran,  I  am  much  disappointed  with 
your  daughter.  In  fact,  I  don't  think  she  will  do. 

CAPT.     She  won't  do,  Sir  Joseph  ! 

SIR  JOSEPH.  I'm  afraid  not.  The  fact  is,  that  although  I  have 
urged  my  suit  with  as  much  eloquence  as  is  consistent  with  an 
official  utterance,  I  have  done  so,  hitherto,  without  success.  How 
do  you  account  for  this  ? 

CAPT.  Really,  Sir  Joseph,  I  hardly  know.  Josephine  is  of 
course  sensible  of  your  condescension. 

SIR  JOSEPH.     She  naturally  would  be. 

CAPT.     But  perhaps  your  exalted  rank  dazzles  her. 

SIR  JOSEPH.     You  think  it  does  ? 

CAPT.  I  can  hardly  say  ;  but  she  is  a  modest  girl,  and  her  social 
position  is  far  below  your  own.  It  may  be  that  she  feels  she  is  not 
worthy  of  you. 

SIR  JOSEPH.  That  is  really  a  very  sensible  suggestion,  and  dis- 
plays more  knowledge  of  human  nature  than  I  had  given  you 
credit  for. 

CAPT.  See,  she  comes.  If  your  lordship  would  kindly  reason 
with  her,  and  assure  her  officially  that  it  is  a  standing  rule  at  the 
Admiralty  that  love  levels  all  ranks,  her  respect  for  an  official 
utterance  might  induce  her  to  look  upon  your  offer  in  its  propef 
light. 

SIR  JOSEPH.  It  is  not  unlikely.  I  will  adopt  your  suggestion. 
But  soft,  she  is  here.  Let  us  withdraw,  and  watch  our  opportunity. 

(Enter  JOSEPHINE.     FIRST  LORD  retires  up  and  watt  he  s  her.) 
SCENA — JOSEPHINE. 

The  hours  creep  on  apace, 
My  guilty  heart  is  quaking  ! 


Oh,  that  I  might  retrace 

The  step  that  I  am  taking. 
It's  folly  it  were  easy  to  be  showing, 
What  I  am  giving  up  and  whither  going. 


On  the  one  hand,  papa's  luxurious  home, 
Hung  with  ancestral  armor  and  old  brasses, 

Carved  oak  and  tapestry  from  distant  Rome, 
Rare  "  blue  and  white  "  Venetian  finger  glasses, 

Rich  Oriental  rugs,  luxurious  sofa  pillows, 

And  everything  that  isn't  old,  from  Gillow's. 

And  on  the  other,  a  dark  dingy  room, 

In  some  back  street  with  stuffy  children  crying, 

Where  organs  yell,  and  clacking  housewives  fume, 
And  clothes  are  hanging  out  all  day  a-drying. 

With  one  cracked  looking-glass  to  see  your  face  in, 

And  dinner  served  tip  in  a  pudding  basin  ! 


A  simple  sailor,  lowly  born, 
Unlettered  and  unknown, 

Who  toils  for  bread  from  early  morn 
Till  half  the  night  has  flown  ! 

No  golden  rank  can  he  impart — 
No  wealth  of  house  or  land — 

No  fortune  save  his  trusty  heart 
And  honest  brown  right  hand  ! 
And  yet  he  is  so  wondrous  fair 
That  love  for  one  so  passing  rare, 
So  peerless  in  his  manly  beauty, 
Were  little  else  than  solemn  duty  ! 
Oh,  god  of  love,  and  god  of  reason,  say, 
Which  of  you  twain  shall  my  poor  heart  obey  ? 


SIR  JOSEPH.  Madame,  it  has  been  represented  to  me  that  you 
are  appalled  by  my  exalted  rank.  I  desire  to  convey  to  you 
officially,  my  assurance  that  if  your  hesitation  is  attributable  to 
that  circumstance,  it  is  uncalled  for. 

Jos.  Oh  !  then  your  lordship  is  of  opinion  that  married  happi- 
ness is  not  inconsistent  with  discrepancy  in  rank  ? 

SIR  JOSEPH.     I  am  officially  of  that  opinion. 

Jos.  That  the  high  and  the  lowly  may  be  truly  happy  together, 
provided  that  they  truly  love  one  another  ? 

SIR  JOSEPH.  Madame,  I  desire  to  convey  to  you  officially,  my 
opinion  that  love  is  a  platform  upon  which  all  ranks  meet. 

Jos.  I  thank  you,  Sir  Joseph.  I  did  hesitate,  but  I  will  hesitate 
no  longer.  (Aside.}  He  little  thinks  how  eloquently  he  has  pleaded 
his  rival's  cause. 


(CAPTAIN  has  entered ;  during  this  speech  he  comes  down.) 


21 


TRIO — FIRST  LORD,  CAPTAIN,  and  JOSEPHINE. 

CAPT.  Never  mind  the  why  and  wherefore, 

Love  can  level  ranks,  and  therefore, 
Though  his  lordship's  station's  mighty. 

Though  stupendous  be  his  brain, 
Though  your  tastes  are  mean  and  flighty 

And  your  fortune  poor  and  plain, 
CAPT.  and  Ring  the  merry  bells  on  board  ship, 
SIR  JOSEPH.  Rend  the  air  with  warbling  wild, 

For  the  union  of  •}  m.^  [  lordship 

With  a  humble  captain's  child  ! 
CAPT.  For  a  humble  captain's  daughter — 

Jos.  (aside).       For  a  gallant  captain's  daughter. 
SIR  JOSEPH.  And  a  lord  who  rules  the  water — 
Jos.  (aside).       And  a  tor  who  ploughs  the  water — 
ALL.  Let  the  air  with  joy  be  laden, 

Rend  with  songs  the  air  above, 
For  the  union  of  a  maiden 

With  the  man  who  owns  her  love  ! 
SIR  JOSEPH.  Never  mind  the  why  and  wherefore, 
Love  can  level  ranks,  and  therefore, 
Though  your  nautical  relation  (alluding  to  CAPT. 

In  my  set  could  scarcely  pass, 
Though  you  occupy  a  station 

In  the  lower  middle  class, 

CAPT.  and      Ring  the  merry  bells  on  board  ship, 
SIR  JOSEPH.       Rend  the  air  with  warbling  wild, 

For  the  union  of  •]  "??-   [•  lordship 

With  a  humble  captain's  child  ! 
IST  LORD.     For  a  humble  captain's  daughter, 
Jos.  (aside}.         For  a  gallant  captain's  daughter, 
CAPT.  And  a  lord  who  rules  the  water, 

Jos.  (asiiit-}.        And  a  far  who  ploughs  the  water  ! 
ALL.  Let  the  air  with  joy  be  laden, 

Fill  with  songs  the  air  above, 
For  the  union  of  a  maiden 

With  the  man  who  owns  her  love. 


Jos.  Never  mind  the  why  and  wherefore, 

Love  can  level  ranks,  and  therefore 
I  admit  its  jurisdiction  ; 

Ably  have  you  played  your  part ; 
You  have  carried  firm  conviction 

To  my  hesitating  heart. 

CAPT.  and      Ring  the  merry  bells  on  board  ship, 
SIR  JOSEPH.        Rend  the  air  with  warbling  wild, 

For  the  union  of  -j  ,-'  >  lordship 

With  a  humble  captain's  child  ! 

CAPT.  and  SIR  JOSEPH.     For  a  humble  captain's  daughter. 
Jos.  (aside).     For  a  gallant  captain's  daughter, 


CAPT.  and  SIR  JOSEPH.     And  a  lord  who  rules  the  water, 
Jos.  (aside).       And  a  tar  who  ploughs  the  water, 

(Aloiid.)     Let  the  air  with  joy  be  laden. 

CAPT.  and  SIR  JOSEPH.     Ring  the  merry  bells  on  board  ship, 
Jos.  For  the  union  of  a  maiden. 

CAPT.  and  SIR  JOSEPH.     For  her  union  with  his  lordship. 
ALL.  Rend  with  songs  the  air  above 

For  the  man  who  owns  her  love  !         (Exit  Jos.) 

CAPT.  Sir  Joseph,  I  cannot  express  to  you  my  delight  at  the 
happy  result  of  your  eloquence.  Your  argument  was  unanswer- 
able. 

SIR  JOSEPH.  Captain  Corcoran,  it  is  one  of  the  happiest  char- 
acteristics of  this  happy  country  that  official  utterances  are  invari- 
ably regarded  as  unanswerable.  (-Exit  SIR  JOSEPH.) 

CAPT.  At  last  my  fond  hopes  are  to  be  crowned.  My  only 
daughter  is  to  be  the  bride  of  a  Cabinet  Minister.  The  prospect  is 
Elysian.  (During  this  speech,  DICK  DEADEYE  has  entered,} 

DICK.     Captain ! 

CAPT.     Deadeye !     You  here?     Don't!     (Recoiling  from  Aim.) 

DICK.  Ah,  don't  shrink  from  me,  Captain  !  I'm  unpleasant  to 
look  at,  and  my  name's  agin  me,  but  I  ain't  as  bad  as  I  seem. 

CAPT.     What  would  you  with  me  ? 

DICK.  (Mysteriottsly.)     I'm  come  to  give  you  warning. 

CAPT.     Indeed  !     Do  you  propose  to  leave  the  navy  then  ? 

DICK.     No,  no,  you  misunderstand  me  ;  listen  ! 


DUET — CAPTAIN  and  DICK  DEADEYE. 

DICK.          Kind  Captain,  I've"  important  information, 

Sing  hey,  the  kind  commander  that  you  are, 
About  a  certain  intimate  relation, 

Sing  hey,  the  merry  maiden  and  the  tar. 

BOTH.         The  merry,  merry  maiden  and  the  tar. 

CAPT.          Good  fellow,  in  conundrums  you  are  speaking, 

Sing  hey,  the  mystic  sailor  that  you  are. 

The  answer  to  them  vainly  I  am  seeking  ; 

Sing  hey,  the  merry  maiden  and  the  tar. 

BOTH.         The  merry,  merry  maiden  and  the  tar. 

DICK.          Kind  Captain,  your  young  lady  is  a  sighing, 
Sing  hey,  the  simple  captain  that  you  are, 
This  very  night  with  Rackstraw  to  be  flying  ; 
Sing  hey,  the  merry  maiden  and  the  tar. 

BOTH.         The  merry,  merry  maiden  and  the  tar. 

CAPT.          Good  fellow,  you  have  given  timely  warning, 
Sing  hey,  the  thoughtful  sailor  that  you  are, 
I'll  talk  to  Master  Rackstraw  in  the  morning  : 
Sing  hey,  the  cat-o'-nine-tails  and  the  tar  ! 

(Producing  a 
BOTH.         The  merry  cat-o'-nine-tails  and  the  tar  ! 


"cat.") 


23 

CAPT.  Dick  Deadeye,  I  thank  you  for  your  warning.  I  will  at 
once  take  means  to  arrest  their  flight.  This  boat-cloak  will  afford 
me  ample  disguise.  So  !  (Envelops  himself  in  a  mysterious  cloak, 
holding  it  before  his  face.) 

DICK.     Ha,  ha  !     They  are  foiled — foiled — foiled  ! 

(Enter  CREW  on  tiptoe,  with  RALPH  and  BOATSWAIN,  meeting  JOSE- 
PHINE, who  enters  from  cabin  on  tiptoe  with  bundle  of  necessaries, 
and  accompanied  by  LITTLE  BUTTERCUP.  The  CAPTAIN,  shrouded 
in  his  boat-cloak,  takes  stage,  unnoticed.') 

ENSEMBLE. 

Carefully  on  tiptoe  stealing, 

Breathing  gently  as  we  may, 
Every  step  with  caution  feeling, 

We  will  softly  steal  away. 

(CAPTAIN  stamps,) — Chord. 

ALL.  (Much  alarmed.)     Goodness  me — • 

Why,  what  was  that  ? 
DICK.  Silent  be, 

It  was  the  cat  ! 

ALL.  (Reassured.)     It  was — it  was  the  cat  \ 
CAPT.  (Producing  cat-o -nine-tails . ) 

They're  right,  it  was  the  cat ! 
Pull  ashore,  in  fashion  steady, 
Hymen  will  defray  the  fare, 
For  a  clergyman  is  ready 
To  unite  the  happy  pair  ! 

(Stamp  as  before,  and  chord,) 

Goodness  me, 

Why,  what  was  that  ? 
DICK.  Silent  be, 

Again  the  cat ! 

ALL.  It  was  again  that  cat ! 

CAPT.  (Aside.)  They're  right — it  was  the  cat ! 

CAST.  (Throwing  off  chat.)     Hold!     (All  start.) 
Pretty  daughter  of  mine, 
I  insist  upon  knowing 
Where  you  may  be  going 
With  these  sons  of  the  brine  ; 
For  my  excellent  crew, 
Though  foes  they  could  thump  any, 
Are  scarcely  fit  company, 
My  daughter,  for  you. 
CREW.  Now  hark  at  that,  do  ! 

Though  foes  we  could  thump  any, 
We  are  scarcely  fit  company 

For  a  lady  like  you  ! 
RALPH.  Proud  officer,  that  haughty  lip  uncurl  ! 

Vain  man,  suppress  that  supercilious  sneer, 


24 

For  I  have  dared  to  love  your  matchless  girl, 

A  fact  well  known  to  all  my  messmates  here '. 
CAPT.  Oh,  horror  ! 

RALPH  and  Jos.      •]  „'    >•  humble,  poor  and  lowly  born, 

The  meanest  in  the  port  division — 

The  butt  of  epauletted  scorn — 
The  mark  of  quarter-deck  derision — 

Hafl   dared  to  raise  j  £7  |  wormy  eyes, 

Above  the  dust  to  which  you'd  mould  •]  , 

In  manhood's  glorious  pride  to  rise. 

^  |  an  Englishman-behold  | -m!, 

ALL.  He  is  an  Englishman  ! 

BOAT.  He  is  an  Englishman  ! 

For  he  himself  has  said  it ! 
And  it's  greatly  to  his  credit, 

That  he  is  an  Englishman  ! 
ALL.  That  he  is  an  Englishman  I 

BOAT.  For  he  might  have  been  a  Roosian, 

A  French,  or  Turk  or  Proosian, 

Or  perhaps  Itali-an  ! 
ALL.  Or  perhaps  Itali-an  ! 

BOAT.  But  in  spite  of  all  temptations, 

To  belong  to  other  nations, 

He  remains  an  Englishman  ! 
ALL.  Hurrah  ! 

For  the  true  born  Englishman  ! 

CAPT.     (Trying  to  repress  his  anger. ,) 

In  uUering  a  reprobation 

To  any  British  tar, 
I  try  to  speak  with  moderation, 

But  you  have  gone  too  far. 
I'm  very  sorry  to  disparage 

A  humble  foremast  lad, 
But  to  seek  your  captain's  child  in  marriage. 

Why,  damme,  it's  too  bad  ! 


(During  this  COUSIN  HEBE  and  FEMALE  RELATIVES  have  entered.} 

« 

ALL.     (Shocked.)     Oh  ! 

CAPT.  Yes,  damme,  it's  too  bad  ! 

ALL.  Oh  ! 

CAPTAIN  and  DICK  DEADEYE.     Yes,  damme,  it's  too  bad  ! 

(During  (his  SIR  JOSEPH  has  appeared  on  deck.     He  is  horrified  at  the 
bad  language, .) 


25 

HEBE.  Did  you  hear  him,  did  you  hear  him  ? 

Oh,  the  monster  overbearing  ! 
Don't  go  near  him,  don't  go  near  him. 

He  is  swearing,  he  is  swearing. 
SIR  JOSEPH  (who  has  come  down)  : 

My  pain  and  my  distress, 
I  find  it  is  not  easy  to  express  ; 
My  amazement,  my  surprise, 
You  may  learn  from  the  expression  of  my  eyes  ! 
CAPT.     My  lord,  one  word  :   the  facts  are  not  before  you, 

The  word  was  injudicious,  I  allow, 
But  hear  my  explanation,  I  implore  you, 

And  you  will  be  indignant,  I  avow  ! 
SIR  JOSEPH.     I  will  hear  of  no  defence, 

Attempt  none  if  you're  sensible. 
That  word  of  evil  sense 

Is  wholly  indefensible. 
Go,  ribald,  get  you  hence 

To  your  cabin  with  celerity. 
This  is  the  consequence 
Of  ill-advised  asperity ! 

(Exit  CAPTAIX,  disgraced ',  followed  by  JOSEPHINE.) 

ALL.  Behold  the  consequence 

Of  ill-advised  asperity  ! 
SIR  JOSEPH.  For  I'll  teach  you  all,  erelong, 

To  refrain  from  language  strong, 
For  I  haven't  any  sympathy  for  ill-bred  taunts  ! 
HEBE.     No  more  have  his  sisters,  nor  his  cousins,  nor  his  aunts. 
ALL.        For  he  is  an  Englishman,  etc. 

SIR  JOSEPH.  Now,  tell  me,  my  fine  fellow — for  you  are  a  fine 
fellow — 

RALPH.     Yes,  your  honor. 

SIR  JOSEPH.  How  came  your  Captain  so  far  to  forget  himself? 
I  am  quite  sure  you  had  given  him  no  cause  for  annoyance. 

RALPH.  Please  your  honor,  it  was  thus  wise.  Ycu  see  I'm  only 
a  topman  ;  a  mere  foremast  hand — 

SIR  JOSEPH.  Don't  be  ashamed  of  that.  Your  position  as  a  top- 
man is  a  very  exalted  one. 

RALPH.  Well,  your  honor,  love  burns  as  brightly  in  the  foksle 
as  it  does  on  the  quarter-deck,  and  Josephine  is  the  fairest  bud  that 
ever  blossomed  upon  the  tree  of  a  poor  fellow's  wildest  hopes. 
(Enter  JOSEPHINE  ;  she  rushes  to  RALPH'S  arms.  SIR  JOSEPH  hor- 
rified.) She's  the  figure-head  of  my  ship  of  life  ;  the  bright  beacon 
that  guides  me  into  my  port  of  happiness  ! 

ALL.     Very  pretty. 

SIR  JOSEPH.  Insolent  sailor,  you  shall  repent  this  outrage. 
Seize  him  !  ( Two  Marines  seize  him  and  handcuff  him.) 

Jos.     Oh,  Sir  Joseph,  spare  him,  for  I  love  him  tenderly. 

SIR  JOSEPH.  Away  with  him  !  I  will  teach  this  presumptuous 
mariner  to  discipline  his  affections.  Have  you  such  a  thing  as  a 
dungeon  on  board  ? 


26 

ALL.     We  have  ! 

SIR  JOSEPH.     Then  load  him  with  chains  and  take  him  there  at 
once  ! 

OCTETTE. 

RALPH.  Farewell,  my  own  ! 

Light  of  my  life,  farewell  ! 
For  crime  unknown 

I  go  to  a  dungeon  cell. 
ALL.  For  crime,  etc. 

Jos.  In  the  mean  time,  farewell ! 

And  all  alone 

Rejoice  in  your  dungeon  cell ! 
ALL.  And  all,  etc. 

SIR  JOSEPH.         A  bone,  a  bone, 

I'll  pick  with  this  sailor  fell  ; 
Let  him  be  shown 

At  once  to  his  dungeon  cell. 
ALL.  Let  him,  etc. 

BOATSWAIN,  DICK  DEADEYE  and  COUSIN  HEBE. 
He'll  hear  no  tone 

Of  the  maiden  he  loves  so  well  ! 
No  telephone 

Communicates  with  his  cell ! 
ALL.  No  telephone,  etc. 

BUT.  (Mysteriously.)     But  when  is  known 

The  secret  I  have  to  tell, 
Wide  will  be  thrown 

The  door  of  his  dungeon  cell. 
ALL.  Wide  will  be  thrown 

The  door  of  his  dungeon  cell. 

(All  repeat  respective  verses,  ensemble.     At  th*  end,  RALPH  is  led 
off  in  custody.} 

SIR  JOSEPH.  Josephine,  I  cannot  tell  you  the  distress  I  feel  at 
this  most  painful  revelation.  I  desire  to  express  to  you,  officially, 
that  I  am  hurt.  You,  whom  I  honored  by  seeking  in  marriage  ; 
you,  the  daughter  of  a  Captain  in  the  Royal  Navy  ! 

BUT.     Hold  !     7  have  something  to  say  to  that ! 

SIR  JOSEPH.     You  ? 

BUT.     Yes,  I  ! 

SONG — BUTTKRCUP. 

A  many  years  ago, 

When  I  was  young  and  charming, 
As  some  of  you  may  know, 
I  practiced  baby-farming. 
ALL.  Now  this  is  most  alarming, 

When  she  was  young  and  charming, 
She  practiced  baby-farming, 

A  many  years  ago. 

BUT.  Two  tender  babes  I  nussed, 

One  was  of  low  condition, 
The  other,  upper  crust, 
A  regular  patrician. 


27 

ALL  (explaining  to  each  otJier) : 

Now,  this  is  the  position  : 
One  was  of  low  condition, 
The  other  a  patrician, 
A  many  years  ago. 
BUT.  Oh,  bitter  is  my  cup  ! 

However  could  I  do  it  ? 
I  mixed  those  children  up, 

And  not  a  creature  knew  it. 
ALL.  However  could  you  do  it  ? 

Some  day,  no  doubt,  you'll  rue  it, 
Although  no  creature  knew  it, 

So  many  years  ago. 
BUT.  In  time  each  little  waif 

Forsook  his  foster  mother  ; 
The  well-born  babe  was  Ralph, 

Your  captain  was  the  other  !  !  ! 
ALL.  They  left  their  foster  mother  ; 

The  one  was  Ralph,  our  brother, 
Our  captain  was  the  other, 

A  many  years  ago. 

SIR  JOSEPH.     Then  I  am  to  understand  that  Captain  Corcoran 
and  Ralph  were  exchanged  in  childhood's  happy  hour — that  Ralph 
is  really  the  Captain,  and  the  Captain  is  Ralph? 
BUT.     That  is  the  idea  I  intended  to  convey  ! 
SIR  JOSEPH.     Dear  me  !     Let  them  appear  before  me  at  once  ! 

(RALPH  enters  as  CAPTAIN,  CAPTAIN*  as  a  common  sailor.    JOSEPHINE 
rushes  to  his  arms.) 

Jos.     My  father — a  common  sailor  ! 

CAPT.     It  is  hard,  is  it  not,  my  dear  ? 

SIR  JOSEPH.  This  is  a  very  singular  occurrence  ;  I  congratulate 
you  both.  ( To  RALPH.)  Desire  that  remarkably  fine  seaman  to 
step  forward. 

RALPH.     Corcoran,  come  here. 

CAPT.     If  what?     If  y  on  f  lease! 

SIR  JOSEPH.     Perfectly  right.     If  you //<•<««.•/ 

RALPH.     Oh!     If  you  please!    (CAPTAIN  steps  forward.) 

SIR  JOSEPH.  (To  CAPTAIN.)     You  are  an  extremely  fine  fellow. 

CAPTAIN.     Yes,  your  honor. 

SIR  JOSEPH.  So  it  seems  that  you  were  Ralph,  and  Ralph  was 
you. 

CAPT.     So  it  seems,  your  honor. 

SIR  JOSEPH.  Well,  I  need  not  tell  you  that  after  this  change  in 
your  condition,  a  marriage  with  your  daughter  will  be  out  of  the 
question. 

CAPT.     Don't  say  that,  your  honor  ;  love  levels  all  ranks. 

SIR  JOSEPH.  It  does  to  a  considerable  extent,  but  it  does  not 
level  them  as  much  as  that.  (Handing  JOSEPHINE  to  RALPH.) 
Here,  take  her,  sir,  and  mind  you  treat  her  kindly. 

RALPH  and  Jos.     Oh  bliss,  oh  rapture  ! 

SIR  JOSEPH.  Sad  my  lot,  and  sorry  ; 

What  shall  I  do  ?     I  cannot  live  alone  ! 

ALL.  What  will  he  do  ?   he  cannot  live  alone  ! 


UCSB   LIBRARY 


28 


HEBE. 


Fear  nothing  —  while  I  live  I'll  not  desert  you  ; 

I'll  soothe  and  comfort  your  declining  days. 
Sift  JOSEPH.     No,  don't  do  that. 
HEBE.     Yes,  but  indeed,  I'd  rather— 
SIR  JOSEPH.     (Resigned.)    To-morrow  morn  our  vows  shau  all 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

405  Hilgard  Avenue,  Los  Angeles,  CA  90024-1388 

Return  this  material  to  the  library 

from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


APR  1  g  ,993 


APR    6W58I 


rcup, 
;up, 


aunts. 


CURTAIN. 


H. 


Ill  I  II  II  II  II    III  I  1 1  I  II I  1 1    II 

A     000  605  525     5 

ASSEBEER, 

Ch-emist  and  Apothecary, 
ISTEW  YORK, 


337 

Sixth  Av.. 

Cor.  21st  St. 


will  mitigate  Coughs,  etc.,  allay  tickling  in  the  throat  and  facilitate  and  lessen 
expectoration.  An  excellent  remedy  for  keeping  the  throat  moist  while  speaking 
or  singing.  Price,  US  Cents. 

Cassfita's  Quinine  Hair  Tonic 

(EAU  DE  QUININE) 

will  preserve,  beautify,  arrest  the  fall  and  promote  the  growth  of  the  hair.  It 
cleanses,  immediately"  relieves  itching  of  the  scalp  and  eradicates  dandruff.  It 
also  confers  a  beautiful  gloss  and  silken  softness  to  the  hair.  Prepared  with  the 
most  scrupulous  care  and  warranted  not  to  soil  the  most  delicate  fabric.  It  is  one 
of  the  most  refreshing  toilet  articles  known.  Price,  One  Dollar. 


Casselifier'sfiflfi.BeefaDiCoca 

prepared  with  the  greatest  care,  contains  the  nutritive  qualities  of  Beef  with 
the  stimulating  and  excitant  properties  of  Coca  (Erythroxylon  Coca)  in  its  most 
pleasant  and  effective  form.  Coca  possesses  the  power  of  stimulating  all  the 
vital  functions  of  the  human  system 

WITHOUT   LEAVING    ANY    AFTER-KEELING    OF   LASSITUDE    OR   REACTION. 

As  a  remedy  for  dyspepsia,  nervous  debility. prostration  from  malarial  poisoning, 
palsy  of  the  lower  half  of  the  body,  and  particularly  for  both  nervous  and  mus- 
cular fatigue,  it  is  the  best  and  most  reliable  remedy  that  can  be  found.  It  has 
been  used  for  man)'  years  in  its  native  lands — Peru  and  Bolivia — with  most 
extraordinary  success,  and  the  reports  of  scientific  travelers  in  those  countries  all 
corroborate  the  foregoing  facts.  Coca  is  beyond  doubt  also  the  very  best  stimu- 
lant in  all  forms  of  low  fevers,  and  in  convalescence,  after  all  severe  attacks,  its 
use  is  highly  beneficial.  Price,  One,  Dollar  a  bottle. 


These  preparations  are  for  sale  by  all  Druggists,  and  by 
Cassebeer,  Pharmacist,  Sixth  Ave.,  cor.  21st  St.;  Fourth 
Ave.,  cor.  9th  St.;  191  Bowery,  opp.  Spring  St. ;  Forty-Second 
St.,  cor.  9th  Ave  ;  and  Ninth  Ave.,  cor.  37th  St.,  New  York. 


Her  Majesty's  Opera  Company 


TO 


WEBER 


A.  WKHKU,  Ksq. — /Av.v  .SV>/  "1'h  :  tollov.-in;;  artists  of  Her  Majes- 
ty's (Colonel  Mapl-  /a  Company,  v,  OXL\ 
Yu;  11  (the  Weber)  pianos  for  their  private  use  durn  tay  in 
York  Citv,  while  tendering  their  thanks  for  your  kindness, 
deem  it  their  duty  to  say  that  for  pure  ur. 
/•';;<•,  coupled 

of  1115   pi;  equals    yours.       Certainly 

vou:c  already   formed,    or  for    the   purpose   of    cul 
Weber  Piano  is  superior  to  any  instrument  known  t 


.  :;nixi. 


F.XR- 


ROPI, 

MAKIK     { 

ITA;  i                   M, 

F.  I 

!   / 

'  •*-*••••  V  t/i  oil 

I1".  1 

Pi 

Southe 

G.  THI 

FRANK  m:  Ri.- 

F.   ! 

Libra 

XOTK. — The   signatures  of  the  artists  can    be    si-rn    at    Weber's 
warerooms,  Fifth  Avenue  and  Sixteenth  Si  reel. 


Prices  Reasonable.  Terms  Easy. 

WAREROOMS: 

Fifth  Avenue,  cor.  16th  St.,  New  York. 


